Lyrics Run Dem - Foxy Brown, Baby Cham

Run Dem

Whoa
A wha de bloodclaat do dem fool deh
Who the fuck told bitches they could do what I do
And all of a sudden all y’all bitches got accents too
Bad gyal, bitches can’t do the shit that I do
Sometime a gal fi get kuff (hoo hoo hoo hoo)
Whoa, I tell a motherfucker this
Some niggas nowadays mood’s worse than a bitch
And as for this chick, me love bum flick on bad man dick so
Got the pussy I got the lie fo'
I’m a grown ass bitch with my own ass shit
Now hear dis, una wan' chat?
Me a go bust una secret
Ya a big battyman, ya love look man bottom
Pussy watchman, you a trace gyal pattern
Fuck who, niggas wish they could fuck me
Like they never seen a hot gal act like we
Big bumboclaat star, push hot car
Big hood, me love back way all day
And the way my man fuck, can’t even stand up
And when he gets stiff it cum like ten dicks
Take it through my hole right through my appendix
I got a message;
why dont y’all motherfuckers sit on this?
From a puss hole, dis man we shot dem
If a fass hole fi dead man we back dem
If a gun shot fi bust man we clap dem
An if a riddim fi ride man we rock dem
Out of all the broads in the game, Fox is the baddest
Picture me fuckin with a nigga half my status
Bad gal bust big gun and no wan' see me buck it
Move ya bumba hole, bwoy gwon mind ya jacket
How dare y’all motherfuckers even spit my name
Cool now man, 'fore I have you X’d out the game
And tell dem all your gang pussy like sugar cane
And buck yat take beer owed by queer, oh dem where dat?
Bet you wish you lucked up, and got a quick nut
I wouldn’t fuck you if I was horny, or pissy-ass drunk
Lucky I don’t fuck around and get you stuck up
Waitin outside your studio, collect your dub bucks
Bitch — fuck around and get that nigga gun buck
Outside and fully loaded with the gun stashed up
In front of cactus, chrome fo'-fifth
And a bag of full clip for niggas with loose lip — FIYAH
How many times I got to let y’all bitches know I’m
One of a kind, can’t fuck with mines
See when Fox in the place, pure hotness a gwan
When I bust wine we na watch ya face, gwan
Ya too fraud, sound ridiculous
I’m the only Trini bitch that can kick yard shit, FIYAH
What you know about skin out and bruck out
Like a bad gyal bunny hot style, pop pure style
Look at this wannabe’s comin around me
Sick of these fake G’s tryin to clown me
Why these niggas be tryin to drown me
I’m tellin you fools no one can bound me